


Pad Thai and Vibrating Plugs

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: A Breath of Home [39]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 06:45:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Ryan meet at the San Diego Comic Con and hot sex ensues.  In this chapter, after discussing their lists, one of Sam's fantasies gets played out.</p><p>
  <i>Sam tucks Ryan back into his jeans and zips up his fly as he stands. He pulls Ryan in by his waistband and kisses him hard. "Just remember, I love you and this is supposed to be fun."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"For both of us?" Ryan teases, because he strongly suspects the 'fun' is going to be largely one-sided this evening. He slips his arms around Sam and kisses him again, slowly, losing himself in his lover's mouth for a long moment.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pad Thai and Vibrating Plugs

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone familiar with the RPG Citadel, this is NOT backstory for our pups in the game. In Citadel, Sam is played as the actor and Ryan is played AU as a songwriter. And then a little birdie told us our boys were going to be at SDCC at the same time in real life and we couldn't pass up the opportunity to see what would happen in another world, with the boys both as their actor selves.

"That's for me," Sam declares, leaping up from the couch when the doorbell rings. Same-day delivery rocks. He answers the door, giving the guy on the other side a wide easy grin as he signs for the package, his signature as mangled as ever. "Thanks, mate. Have a great day." Already tearing the paper from the box before the door even closes behind him.

Ryan thinks he's got a couple solid guesses what might be in the parcel, between their conversation of earlier and Sam's giddiness of now. And he's not jumping out of his chair just yet. He'll get there, sure, but he still can't help feeling a bit wary of what's on deck for tonight, and so he waits for Sam to come to him.

"You don't look nearly as excited as I am," Sam observes with a grin, holding up the box and handing it over to Ryan. "Go on. Open it."

Giving his lover a wary _look_ from beneath his brows, Ryan reaches out and takes the package. Inside he finds a simple black leather cock ring with snaps - okay, he's getting used to the idea of those - and a butt plug about five inches long, maybe an inch wide, with a black pearlized finish. And, of course, a remote control. "Looks ominous," he murmurs, picking up the remote and finding it unexpectedly light in his hand.

"But discreet," Sam says, taking a seat on the couch, his eyes on Ryan and their new toys. "The base'll fit between your cheeks and the remote'll go in my pocket and no one'll know except us."

Curious, Ryan flips the 'on' switch, and his eyes go wide at the plug as it starts buzzing away in its box. He takes it all the way up to the seventh level of vibration - _fuck!_ \- then switches it off again, handing the remote to Sam. "Jesus." At least the thing is quiet.

Sam grins. "When do you want to go for dinner?" he asks, glancing at his watch.

"Huh?" Distracted, Ryan glances up and forces himself to focus on his lover's face. "Oh. Right. Um..." Is he hungry? He can't even tell. "I guess I can go put that in now. We don't need a reservation or anything."

Sam nods. "Okay. I'll put the cock ring on you when you're ready."

"Okay," Ryan echoes. It takes him a moment to get to his feet, though, his mind still reeling. He takes the plug and disappears into his bedroom, going right to his closet to try and figure out just what he's going to wear that'll best conceal everything; he's definitely nervous about that aspect, no matter what Sam claims about it being discreet. Finally deciding on loose jeans and a long dress shirt, he strips down and lubes up his hole a bit more before pushing the plug deep inside with a little moan.

Ryan seems awfully quiet and Sam can't help wondering if he's pushing too hard or too far. Still, he has to trust Ryan would've said no if he didn't want to do this.

Washing his hands, Ryan tugs his jeans up around his waist and then heads back into the living room. His cock is half-hard and poking through the flaps of his fly when he goes to stand in front of his lover.

"You okay?" Sam asks, wrapping his fingers around Ryan's cock and giving it a couple of firm strokes.

"Yeah." Reaching out, Ryan lays his hands on Sam's shoulders. "What -- you think I can't do this?" Sam should know better.

"I didn't say that," Sam points out. "You've just been kinda quiet," he says, fastening the cock ring around Ryan's cock and balls, the leather drawn tight before he snaps it closed.

"I've never tried anything like this before," Ryan murmurs, and he knows that's certainly no news flash to Sam. "I'm just trying to, ahh, wrap my head around all this. I guess." It's a lot to absorb, really. He's hard, and stuck that way. He's full, and stuck that way as well. And now, for the greatest challenge of the evening: he has to _act normal_. Ryan takes a deep breath. "Ready when you are."

Sam tucks Ryan back into his jeans and zips up his fly as he stands. He pulls Ryan in by his waistband and kisses him hard. "Just remember, I love you and this is supposed to be fun."

"For both of us?" Ryan teases, because he strongly suspects the 'fun' is going to be largely one-sided this evening. He slips his arms around Sam and kisses him again, slowly, losing himself in his lover's mouth for a long moment.

"You get to have your fun tomorrow," Sam says with a grin when they break for breath.

Ryan grins back - he can't ever help that - and strokes his fingers over the light stubble on Sam's cheek. "I'm crazy about you," he whispers, as if that weren't already obvious with every step he's taking today. "Did I tell you that recently?"

"I don't think you did," Sam teases, his grin widening, leaning in for another kiss. "So, we can walk to this place?"

"Yes." Ryan sounds grimly resigned. "Which ordinarily I love, because finding parking on the street is a real bitch, but..." He laughs and pulls his shirttails down, making sure they're smooth. "Come on, you freak," he says, taking Sam's hand and leading him to the door, grabbing his keys on the way. "I know the suspense is killing you."

Sam laughs. "Slightly," he admits, fingering the remote in his pocket.

"Hey now, you should sound way more excited than that," Ryan says with a grin, locking up behind them and then setting out on the footpath edging his residential block. "Or I'm going to be really insulted."

"I was kidding," Sam says. "Understating things." He nudges their shoulders together. "I can hardly fucking wait to watch you squirm." He grins. "How's the plug feel? Comfortable so far?"

"Yeah, it's... yeah. I mean, it's a weird feeling to be walking around like this," Ryan admits with a wry smile. "And the cock ring... that definitely is holding my attention, shall we say." It feels like he's fucking _ready_ , at any possible second. Being with Sam while he feels this way... _Fuck_. He might explode halfway through dinner.

"You know the other benefit of doing this?" Sam says casually, glancing sideways at Ryan, well aware of how on edge he must already be.

"No." Ryan looks up to meet Sam's eyes as they walk, and he has to force himself to look away. Because otherwise he's just going to fucking stare, and they're in public for fuck's sake.

Leaning close, Sam murmurs, his words for Ryan alone, "You'll be so open by the time we get home, I'll be able to slide right in."

Ryan shivers, a full-body shudder. "Be quiet," he orders, when he can actually find his voice again. He shoots Sam a quick glare before looking away again. "I'm planning."

Oh oh. "Planning what?" Sam asks with a grin, resisting the urge to play with the remote before they get to the restaurant.

"Planning which boots I'm going to wear tomorrow," Ryan mutters, leading his lover out onto the main strip. It's colorful and busy out here, and he stuffs his hands into his pockets as a precaution.

Sam chuckles. "Planning on dragging them through the mud first too?" he teases, amused.

"Keep it up and I might," Ryan shoots back, but he doesn't mean it. What fun would it be to actually make his lover eat dirt? That's just weird as far as he's concerned. He just wants Sam down on the floor, working his tongue over the leather... _Fuck_. Ryan doesn't _need_ yet another factor making his cock throb. He tries to shake it off, pulling open the door of a small restaurant and holding it for his lover.

"Hey, this is nice," Sam says, looking around, surprised by the interior. He'd seriously just expected some little hole in the wall but the place is actually decorated with all sorts of Thai artifacts.

"Yeah. Two, please," Ryan says, holding up two fingers and getting a nod from the hostess. "I tend towards the fish, but everything I've tried on their menu has been pretty amazing," he tells Sam quietly as the woman leads them on a narrow aisle through the tables, stopping at a small table by the wall near the kitchen's swinging double doors.

Sam grins, taking a seat. "I'm pretty partial to pad thai," he says. "Spring rolls. Singha." His grin widens.

"And we have to get the mango sticky rice pudding for dessert, I insist," Ryan says, responding in an instant to Sam's smile. "They serve it with an entire huge fresh mango, and it's incredible." God, he's so lucky to be here, he abruptly realizes: sitting in public with a man he's absolutely crazy about, feeling so comfortable in his company even while he knows that Sam is going to rock his fucking world later. It's amazing.

"It sounds delicious," Sam says, opening his menu and giving it a quick look even though it sounds like they both already know what they want. There's no rush though and when the waitress comes by, he just orders a beer and a plate of spring rolls to start. 

Ryan seconds the order for Singha, and shifts in his chair as the waitress walks away. "She's cute," he murmurs, giving Sam a shrug, then a mischievous grin.

"If you go for that type," Sam grins back, mimicking Ryan's shrug.

"The cute petite dark-haired type?" Ryan folds his arms on the table and leans in to keep the conversation between them. "Eh, you're right -- who needs them? I kind of like the taller ones, anyway," he murmurs, his gaze skating slowly over Sam. "Powerful. A bit intimidating."

"Yeah. I've been going for the really hot, tightly muscled blonds these days," Sam says, leaning in close, fingers stroking over the dial on the remote, slowly easing it on.

Ryan is just starting to relax into the teasing, smiling into his lover's eyes, when his entire body jerks in shock. Okay, so that's definitely not the subtle response he'd been hoping to manage, but shit, he wasn't expecting it _now_! "Fuck," he whispers, clamping down with his muscles to try and regain some control, but doing so only makes the vibration against his prostate more intense. He glares at Sam.

"What?" Sam protests, giving Ryan his very best innocent look and the waitress a wide easy grin as she brings their beers and the plate of spring rolls.

"Do you still need a moment?" she asks, glancing between them. She knows exactly who they are, but the last waiter caught glomming on the celebs got canned in an instant.

"Um." Ryan glances up at her like she's speaking Greek. No, he doesn't need another moment; he knows exactly what he wants. He just can't think about anything right now past the godforsaken vibrating pressure on his prostate. "Um," he says again, staring down at his menu because if he looks up and spies a teasing sparkle in Sam's eyes, he's going to fucking lose it. "The fried carp with chile lime sauce for me, please," he manages finally, folding the menu and handing it over without looking at her.

"And I'll have the pad thai, extra spicy. Thanks." Sam flashes her another million watt smile and turns the remote up another notch.

Ryan sets his jaw, grinding his teeth. Surely it's only in his mind that the buzzing just got louder. He sneaks a sidelong glance at the nearest guests to them, who don't seem to be aware that there's anything strange going on at his and Sam's table. That's some relief, at least, and he cautiously raises his eyes to meet Sam's.

"Want a spring roll?" Sam asks casually, offering Ryan the plate.

"Yes. Thanks." Ryan straightens up in his chair and tries to make his posture as casual as possible, as opposed to stiff and anxious. He snags a spring roll with another glance up at his lover, then starts to pull it to shreds on his plate. "So. Have you done this before?" he asks, recalling when Sam told him he'd tried most everything, from both ends.

"Plug in a restaurant, yes, vibrating one in a hotel room, yes too, but never both at the same time," Sam says with a smile, dipping his spring roll in the provided plum sauce.

"Wimp," Ryan informs him, one eyebrow raised in mocking challenge. Then he has to laugh. "Who'd you wear the plug in a restaurant for?" he asks curiously, before he catches himself and shakes his head. "Sorry. I'm sorry, that's totally none of my business." It just seems like such a line to cross, and he can't help but wonder who was powerful enough to take Sam there.

"It was a bet," Sam says slowly, considering. "I lost and that was what was on the table." And normally he wouldn't talk out of turn, but this is Ryan. He leans in closer, shielding his mouth with his hand. "Liam Neeson."

Ryan stares, his mouth slightly agape. "No _fucking_ way," he whispers, barely managing to keep his voice down. Mind-blown, he sits back and takes a sip of his beer. Okay, clearly he has never taken advantage of his opportunities quite the way Sam has. Damn it.

Sam just grins, popping the last of his spring roll into his mouth.

"Christ," Ryan mutters, shaking his head. He grins and snags some of the plum sauce to put on his own plate. "You make me feel like I missed out. Like I need to go find all those people I worked with over the years who I thought were so fucking hot, and make them hook up with me."

Sam shrugs. "Fucking around's overrated," he says with a smile, ducking his head a little. Of course he'd say that now that he has Ryan.

"Yeah, you're just saying that because I'm buying you dinner," Ryan retorts. Not to mention the fucking plug, vibrating away in his ass... The buzzing sensation is low enough just yet that he can almost tune it out, can almost absorb it and let the feeling blend into the background noise. Almost. But he knows, regardless, that Sam isn't finished with him, so he can't quite relax anyway.

"No, I'm saying that because we promised we'd be monogamous," Sam shoots back like he's joking, but there's true fear lurking underneath the words. That's the danger with opening up a whole fucking new world to someone. They just might decide to explore it with someone else. And he's never cared before, but now... Fuck.

Grinning, Ryan takes another pull of his beer. "I've been showing you my favorite restaurants," he says, sitting back a little as their waitress arrives and lays their dishes out in front of them. "But what are yours? I mean, with you being such a nomad, I'm guessing there's a real variety."

"I'll eat almost anything as long as it's not too fussy," Sam says, sprinkling chopped peanuts over his pad thai. "I'd much rather have a home-cooked meal from pretty much any culture than deal with picky crap at some hoity-toity Michelin-starred hot spot." He smiles. "My favourite at the moment is that Italian deli, the one near my place? They do this veal sandwich..." he rolls his eyes and kisses the tips of his fingers.

"Is that the place where you got the lasagne from?" Ryan asks, thinking back to that memorable evening they had dinner with Eva.

Sam nods, mouth full of the best fucking pad thai he's had in ages. He chews and swallows, washing the noodles down with another swig of Singha. "There's also this Mexican place in Sydney. Fantastic tacos el chorizo. And their guacamole?" He groans with pleasure.

"I love good guacamole. And when you've got fresh garlic and chilis..." Ryan takes a few bites of his fish before speaking again. "When do you think you'll be back in Sydney again?" he asks, trying to keep his voice casual. "We should go back together."

"Probably as soon as I'm done -- for a couple of days anyway. Or more." Sam grins. "I was planning on heading back here to see you, but if you've got time to go home..."

Ryan shrugs. "I could maybe take a week or so. I haven't seen my family in a while." He raises an eyebrow in question and looks up at his lover. "Would you like to meet them?"

"As your friend or...?" Sam's come out to his mum but he's pretty sure Ryan hasn't said anything to his parents.

"Yeah." Ryan blows out a breath, and slides his fingertip through the condensation on his beer bottle. "My parents... I think they suspect, you know? I mean, with Lloyd being out already, it's not like they're going to freak out or anything anyway, but I just... it's been so long since I've been steady with anyone. I think at the very least my mother wonders. My dad, well, he probably tries not to think about it regardless."

Sam nods. "I'd love to meet them," he says with a smile.

"Cool." Ryan's face lights up with an answering smile. "They'll love you. And you can take me to that Mexican place."

"Where will we stay?" Sam asks, spearing a piece of chicken with his fork, his other hand turning the dial on the remote up another notch.

"Um." Distracted in a second, Ryan stares absently at the floor, all his efforts going towards simply trying to remain still in his chair. "Sorry... what?"

"I asked where we'd stay," Sam says casually, unable to resist going for one more notch while Ryan's struggling to recover.

Biting off an oath under his breath, Ryan shoots Sam a glare. "A hotel," he says carefully, keeping his voice quiet. "You fucking sadist."

Sam grins. "You're just figuring that out now?"

"God." Ryan shuts his eyes on the mutter and lets himself focus for a moment on the sensations rocketing through his body. Blood throbs in his trapped cock, and the plug buzzes hard against his prostate, stimulating him even further. He'd look at his lover, but all he can fucking think about is having Sam's cock buried inside him later.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Sam says softly, his words for Ryan alone. "Not only the plug and the ring, but having this secret, this thing no one else knows about. Doing something so fucking naughty out in the open."

Ryan knows he's always been a bit of a risk-taker. But this game he's playing with Sam, it's nothing like bungee-jumping or cave diving or any of the other crazy stunts he's been known to indulge in. His lover's wicked words send shivers through his body and he bites his lip, trying to make sure he stays in control of himself. They're in _public_ , for fuck's sake.

"So... there's three more levels on this thing," Sam says quietly, continuing to eat his dinner, his own jeans tighter than hell just watching Ryan. Just _knowing_. "How many do you think you can handle?"

Well, hell. Ryan's probably never in his life shrunk from a challenge; and he reckons that, by this point in their relationship, Sam probably has that pretty fucking well figured out. He raises an eyebrow and steadily meets his lover's gaze. "All of them." _Obviously_.

"Yeah?" Sam flicks the remote up another notch. "Without coming in your jeans despite the ring?"

Instinctively Ryan clamps down on the plug, which is the fucking _wrong_ move right now. A slight whimper escapes him, lust shocking through his body, and he has to consciously relax once more. "We're taking dessert with us," he tells Sam through gritted teeth.

"Whatever you say," Sam grins, thumbing the remote up to sixth and then to seventh before Ryan can even adjust.

 _Fuck!_ Ryan jerks in his chair, he just can't help it. He fists his hands in his lap, focusing on slowly inhaling, exhaling, then a slow breath drawn back in. Shit. Thank fuck Sam put the cock ring on him; he didn't even realize what a mercy it was at the time. Working to control another shudder of response, he lifts a hand and nods to their waitress. When she arrives at their table he doesn't waste a moment, ordering the mango sticky rice pudding to go, and requesting their cheque at the same time.

"You realize you're still not getting out of that for a while when we get home," Sam says, watching the waitress move around the restaurant, putting their dessert order into the kitchen and processing their bill.

"And why not?" Ryan asks quietly, every move now deliberate and careful. He looks at Sam. "What hoops do I need to jump through first?"

"Special hoops." Sam grins. "Hoops that haven't been decided on yet. I just know I'm going to be down on the floor, hands tied behind my back tomorrow, my mouth on your boots, so... it's going to be a while before you get to come."

Now wait a fucking second, Sam didn't say anything about... _Oh yeah_ , Ryan realizes: he kind of did, when Ryan agreed that Sam would get to choose the moment of his orgasm. _Fuck_. It's definitely too late now for second guesses. His mouth twists briefly in a frustrated frown, but then he relaxes into his usual easy-going smile for their waitress -- a fair resemblance of it, anyway. "Thank you," he tells her, paying for their meal with cash and leaving her a tip that's more than generous; if she knows who they are, he definitely doesn't want to give her any excuse to start running her mouth about them in anger. Especially not them together.

Gripping the take-away bag with their dessert, Ryan gets to his feet.

Sam considers dialing down the vibrations when Ryan stands. For a minute. But then his fucking sadistic nature gets the better of him and he decides to leave it right where it is. "Thanks for dinner," he says, standing as well.

"Sure, no problem," Ryan answers, and it definitely takes effort to keep his voice steady. Fuck, it's _worse_ when he's not sitting down, damn it -- the plug shifts inside him with every step he takes, and the varying pressure against his prostate sends his hormones rushing into a teasing riot. He manages to make it to the footpath outside the restaurant's entrance, but he's worried as hell that he's going to lose his mind before they get all the way home.

"Just think," Sam says, hands still in his pockets, fingers firmly on that remote, keeping it at full blast. "If we didn't have to worry about the paparazzi, I could fuck you in one of these alleyways."

"I hate you," Ryan informs him, stepping around a couple of lovebirds on the path. And another visceral shudder moves through him. Fuck, to have that freedom... "We'd still get arrested," he mutters, because of course he's _thinking_ about it. "Mug shots and all. Just no one would give a shit. I'd probably get deported."

"And I wouldn't?" Sam grins. "Besides which, you're sure we'd get caught? You don't think hundreds of couples fuck every year outdoors without any knowing?" Not that he'd really do it. Risk his career and Ryan's like that. Although...

"In the middle of Hollywood-Wilshire? Too many fucking tourists." Ryan would hasten his steps, eager to get home as he is. But the damn plug is driving him insane, and he doesn't think he could handle the sensation increasing even further. "Where's the weirdest place you've ever fucked?" he asks, attempting to distract himself. "Location-wise, I mean."

"Hm. That's a good one." Sam gives it some thought. "Um. Okay. Got it. Inside a huge track excavator on a construction site. You?"

A surprised laugh huffs from Ryan's lips. "God, I feel so fucking boring around you," he murmurs. "Ummm... in a supply closet, just outside the Green room at Comic-Con."

Sam blinks hard and glances at Ryan. "The one we met at?"

"Nah, the year before. I had a total lapse of conscience and let some woman blow me." Ryan shakes his head and smiles slightly at the memory; it was just so bloody unlike him.

"A fan?"

"Yeah." Ryan groans softly. "A horrible abuse of my dubious popularity, I know. There was a large quantity of scotch involved, if I recall correctly."

Sam laughs. "As long as they're a consenting adult..." he shrugs. "Besides which, it doesn't sound like you've made a habit of it." And god knows, he knows enough who have.

"Nah. Although I've got friends who razz me because they think I should. One of my best friends back home, Will - he's actually in Alice Springs right now, like there's _anything_ going on in Alice Springs - he says he has to live vicariously through me," Ryan explains, looking up to catch sight of his house, thank goodness. "It pisses him off that I don't indulge in orgies on a regular basis."

"Yeah, mates like to take the piss out of you," Sam says with a laugh. "I think it's on their to-do list."

Shifting the take-away sack to his other hand, Ryan digs his house keys out of his pocket. "Do any of your mates know?" he asks, looking over his shoulder at Sam for a moment. "About you?" They've talked about their parents, but he can't recall if they've ever talked about their friends being wise to the truth of their respective sexualities.

"Of the guys at home you mean?" Sam says, following Ryan into the house when he gets the door open. "One. Mike. We've known each other since school and I trust him not to say anything." He stops, standing there, wondering how they got from talking about sex in an alley to serious shit like which of their mates know they fuck guys. "What about you? Any of your mates know?"

"Nah. I've joked about it once or twice, but I don't think they took me seriously. And I don't know if that's because they just thought it was a joke, or because they didn't _want_ to take me seriously. Of course, I think that at the same time everyone back home secretly suspects I'm into some really bizarre shit, just because I live in Los Angeles and work in Hollywood." Ryan slides the deadbolt home. Then he drops a wry glance to his jeans. "They'd be right, obviously." Shit, if Sam doesn't fuck him soon...

That gets a chuckle from Sam. "Drop them," he says, nodding at Ryan's jeans. "Actually... get rid of the shirt too."

 _God, yes_. Ryan sets their dessert on the small side table by the door where he keeps his keys and wallet, then swiftly goes to work on his shoes and clothing. It is such an incredible relief to get his jeans off, even as loose as they are. Stark naked, he shivers slightly, and he's pretty sure it's got nothing to do with the temperature in the room -- especially given that he feels like he's about to burst into flames.

Sam closes the distance between them, moving until they're standing only a foot apart. Then he wraps his fingers around Ryan's cock and starts stroking, slowly, his touch almost teasingly gentle.

With a loud groan, Ryan fists his hands tightly at his sides. How else is he supposed to keep himself from grabbing at his lover? "You're such a fucking tease," he whispers, and the wonder of it is that he's not really complaining.

"And you love it, don't you?" Sam says, rubbing his thumb over the already weeping slit.

"I really kind of do." Ryan quirks a grin, amused at himself. "You just make everything so damn good... I shouldn't tell you that. You're smug enough."

"It's your fault," Sam teases back, laughing. "With the way you respond." He grins but his eyes are dark and full of arousal when he adds, "I want you to kneel and jerk off for me, but you're not to come until I say you can."

Ryan blinks at the order, and it takes him a second to follow through. They're barely inside the house, damn. He kneels on the cold tile of the foyer and tells himself that his hands are only shaking a little. A deep groan spills from his lips when he takes his swollen prick in hand, beginning to swiftly stroke.

"Maybe I should have ordered the larger plug," Sam teases, watching Ryan, his own cock aching, straining against his zipper. "You seem to be handling this one pretty well."

With a groan, Ryan rolls his eyes. "That's the reward for a job well done, huh?" he mutters through gritted teeth. "A bigger job."

Sam grins. "I thought you liked a challenge?"

Aw, hell. Sam's got Ryan's number, all right. "Fuck," Ryan chuckles. He drops his free hand down to cup his ringed balls, tugging at them while he roughly works his cock.

Sam's grin widens. "Let's see you crawl into the living room, then you can keep going," he says, pulling the remote from his pocket.

 _Jesus_. Ryan is definitely not yet comfortable with the crawling. But he agreed to this, sort of, so... Chewing anxiously on his bottom lip, he splays his hands on the cold tile and begins the - thankfully short - journey to his living room. Once there he kneels up and gets his hands back on himself with a soft sigh of pleasure. He doesn't know how long Sam is going to drag this out before giving him permission to come. But he's aching with need, and it just feels so damn good to be jerking off.

Settling on the couch, Sam dials down the remote, pushing the vibration level back to a two. "Tell me when you're close," he says, sliding his other hand over the bulge in his jeans, his cock throbbing beneath his palm.

"I'm closer when you touch yourself," Ryan murmurs, with a sly smile for his lover. Because, _damn_. Sam is just so fucking hot.

"What? Like this?" Sam grins, unzipping his jeans and freeing his cock, fingers wrapping around its swollen aching length.

A groan spills from Ryan's lips. "Yeah," he says, his voice hoarse with lust. He works his cock harder, precome smearing shiny over his skin. "Like that." Damn. He moistens dry lips and just stares.

Sam nods then stills his hand. "Don't stop what you're doing but I want you to reach back and fuck yourself with the plug," he orders, figuring tomorrow's scene buys him a hell of a lot of leeway.

Ryan blinks and looks up at his lover's face in surprise. But then he takes his hand off his balls and reaches back, laying his fingers on the vibrating base of the plug. _Fucking Christ_ , he thinks, oddly embarrassed. But he's certainly already in for a penny... He swallows hard and slowly twists the plug out of his body, then back in.

"Yeah, just like that," Sam murmurs, starting to stroke himself again. "One hand on your cock and the other fucking your ass with the plug."

God, Sam sounds so damn sexy. Ryan shudders with a sudden frisson of lust, and finds himself obeying before he even realizes he's going to. He spreads his thighs slightly, settling back on his heels more. And he focuses his gaze on Sam's hand, Sam's cock, until his self-consciousness begins to fade.

"Good," Sam murmurs, slowly his strokes a little as he increases the vibration on the plug again -- three, four, five. "That's it."

A soft whimper spills from Ryan's lips, desire surging through his body. He fucks himself faster with the plug now, harder, and damn it feels so fucking good. Good enough that he's considering adding such a plug to his repertoire for those lonely Sam-less nights.

"Like that, do you?" Sam grins, turning the remote right back up to full blast.

Crying out, Ryan jerks forward and damn near loses his grip. His fingers skate over the base of the plug, slip off it, and he has to try again. He gets a firmer hold this time and starts up again, and he's not even thinking about it anymore, losing all awareness of how weird this felt at first. Now he's just drowning in sensation, and he's right on the verge of climax before his brain catches up. "Shit. Close!"

"Then you'd better stop," Sam says, releasing his hold on his own cock with a groan.

"Stop?" Ryan's voice cracks like an adolescent's, and his hand jerks into a tight fist around his cock. _Fuck!_ He slams the plug back in as deep as it will go and just waits there, breathless and fucking vibrating with need.

Sam grins, his cock throbbing hard at denying Ryan. "Stand up. I want you to lean over the back of the chair, brace your hands against the arms."

Ryan looks up, glancing at his easy chair which is angled by the window so he can always catch the best reading light. "Oh, shit," he whispers, but gets to his feet and does as he's told, leaning over and getting a solid grip on the upholstery.

Rising to his feet, Sam moves behind Ryan, fingers playing over the plug, pressing it deeper.

"Oh, _shit_." Ryan winces and hitches his hips back, and the intense vibration against his prostate makes him grit his teeth on a yell. "Sam," he gasps, sure he can almost hear the hard pulse of blood throughout his body. "Come on, man, fuck me."

"You can do better than that," Sam teases, letting his fingers trail lower instead, over Ryan's bound cock and balls.

God, Sam can be a real bastard. Ryan chuckles softly, shaking his head with a rueful grin. That teasing touch would light him on fucking fire, if he weren't bursting into flames already. "Please. Sir," he adds, feeling the impact of the word crawl up his spine. Ryan's not comfortable with that whole thing just yet. But if it'll get Sam hot, then he's willing to try. "Please fuck me."

Fuck. The words go straight to Sam's cock and he twists the plug from Ryan's body, eyes locked on the gape of his hole for an instant before he presses in, head popping easily through that already stretched ring of muscle.

 _That worked_ , Ryan thinks in some random corner of his brain. But the rest of him is totally consumed by his lover. He bears down and hitches back, trying to get Sam deeper, provoke him into fucking him hard and fast like he needs. "Please," Ryan whispers again, clenching tightly around Sam's cock.

"What?" Sam grins, gripping Ryan's hips and shoving deep. "Is that what you want?" And harder again, starting to ride at his lover at a downright brutal pace.

Oh, yeah -- that is definitely what Ryan wants. His fingers sink into the chair and he simply hangs on, spreading his thighs a little wider and letting Sam fucking pound into him. "Close," he grates out, and maybe it's a little soon yet but hell, he's _been_ close. For a really long time now.

"Then go ahead. Come when you can," Sam says, fucking Ryan even harder, his cock plunged into his lover's hole again and again.

 _Like this???_ Panic flushes through Ryan's mind in an instant, and he drops his hand to unsnap the cock ring.

"Oh no you don't," Sam growls, grabbing Ryan's wrist and pushing his hand back to the seat arm, his cock buried deep in his lover. "You want to come, you do it like this."

The response completely shocks Ryan, so much so that he doesn't even protest. And god, the way Sam holds him down -- it just triggers something deep inside him. While his mind is still busy with thoughts of _fuck fuck fuck I can't_ , his body carries on without him. His climax rears up and bursts through him, a shout of pain spilling from his lips even as pleasure rushes in to fill the void.

The clench of Ryan's body and his surrender to Sam's command both combine to send Sam over in an instant, his cock spurting hot and thick inside his lover, filling him completely. "Good boy," he murmurs, still holding Ryan down and thrusting inside him, making sure he has every last drop.

God, that word just _grates_ , still. But Ryan is too wiped out to snap at Sam for it, and anyway he knows he promised to try and be more accepting. For right now... he sighs, feeling the breath move through and out of him, taking every last little bit of tension with it. God.

Releasing Ryan's wrists, Sam reaches under him and unsnaps the cock ring. He runs his hands over Ryan's back, feeling his cock throb once more inside him. "You okay?"

"Mm-hmm." A lazy smile tugs at Ryan's lips, and he wriggles a bit against his lover. "That felt good. Do it again?"

Sam grins. "If we can make it to your bed, I'll give you a back rub," he offers, although he's in no real hurry to move and runs his hands over Ryan again.

"Mmm," Ryan moans softly again at the pleasure of the simple caress. But then he clutches at Sam's cock with his inner muscles, drawing out that last flash of lust while his lover remains inside him.

"Oh, fuck," Sam breathes, chuckling a little. "Or we could just stay right here."

Ryan grins. "Nah. My legs are going to give out sooner or later. Probably sooner," he tells his lover, and turns his head for a kiss. "Lying down sounds really really good."

"Good." Sam grins, brushing their lips together. "Love you," he whispers.

"Yeah, you big softie." Shifting, Ryan turns around to lean against the back of the easy chair, and slips his arms around Sam's neck. "I love you, too."

[To chapter forty](http://archiveofourown.org/works/584009)


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